


Sometimes Christmas Comes Early...Or Late?

by acaseofthemondays, treaddelicately



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acaseofthemondays/pseuds/acaseofthemondays, https://archiveofourown.org/users/treaddelicately/pseuds/treaddelicately
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 85
Kudos: 164
Collections: Marching Orders





	1. Chapter 1

**Sometimes Christmas Comes Early... Or Late?** written by acaseofthemondays

moodboard by treaddelicately


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy woke slowly, reluctant to leave the warm drowsiness of a mid morning nap. She hadn’t gone to bed until dawn, so she didn’t think her rest counted as anything but a nap. Even without opening her eyes, she could tell Bucky had already left the bed long enough ago that his side was cold. She wasn’t concerned about his whereabouts however. She could hear him humming from the living room. It was slightly off key, but close enough for her to recognize the first few melancholy bars of  _ Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.  _ Ok, she was a little concerned. Old men singing sad songs wasn’t the best sign. 

Darcy threw on a pair of earth brown leggings and one of Bucky’s thick, green fisherman sweaters, then, making as much noise as she could, joined him in the living room. She’d learned he was a lot less twitchy if she didn’t sneak up on him. She was surprised to walk into a room that had exploded into festive decor that most certainly hadn’t been there when she’d come home early that morning. She squinted, stirring her memory. At least, she didn’t  _ think _ it had looked like Christmas threw up in her living room. She was pretty zonked from her twenty-six hour science bender so she  _ might  _ have missed it. 

“What’s all this?’ she asked, hands planted on her hips, standing amidst several cardboard boxes filled with tree ornaments and fairy lights. 

Bucky glanced over his shoulder at her, his hands busy above his head, hanging an enamel candy cane on the ten foot tall fir tree that was now occupying a quarter of her living room. “Decorating for Christmas.” 

“That’s nice, dear. But you do realize it’s April, right?” 

“Yup.” Up went a fat plastic Santa riding a surfboard in an Hawaiian shirt. 

Darcy nudged the boxes out of her way, wading over to her boyfriend. She pulled up beside him to watch his efforts, patting him distractedly on his backside. “Going senile, huh? That’s rough.” 

He gave her a curt look. “I’m not senile. I know it’s not actually Christmas.” He lightly pinched her side. “I woke up this morning and decided I was tired of having our Christmas plans interrupted.”

“We do have a pretty terrible history with it,” she admitted. They’d been a couple for nearly four years and had never gotten to spend the holiday together. The first year she’d been horrendously sick with the stomach flu and their relationship was new enough that she’d banned him from seeing her for two weeks. They’d even missed New Years. The second year, Bucky had been undercover in Latveria for three whole months. This last Christmas, she was kidnapped by evil alien scientists three days before her and Bucky’s romantic plans for a Christmas getaway to Spain. To be honest, the holiday was starting to give her a sense of existential dread. 

Bucky seemed to read that on her face, giving her a knowing look. “Exactly. Fate has it out for our Christmas plans. So I’m throwing it a curveball. We’re having Christmas now. Today.” 

“Ya know what?” Darcy asked, nodding her head in determination. “Yeah. Yeah we are. We’re doing it. We’re going all out.” And then she marched off towards the kitchen. 

“Where do you think you’re going? This tinsel won’t hang itself.” 

“I’m getting my gingerbread recipe out.” 

“Oh. Carry on, soldier.” 

Darcy grinned. She couldn’t cook for shit, but she could bake like a goddess and Bucky knew it. 

Christmas music filtered into the kitchen, coming from her record player in the living room. She smiled to herself, rolling out the gingerbread dough onto her floured countertop. Bucky slipped in behind her, his warm hands gliding up under her sweater to rest against her waist. She smiled wider as he began to plant soft, fluttery kisses over her neck, gently guiding her hips to sway with his in time to the music. His lips strayed to her ticklish spot behind her ear and she ducked away from him. 

“You better cut that out,” she threatened, but didn’t resist when he pulled her back into position. 

“To quote my favorite dumbass, ‘I can do this all day,’ sweetheart,” he told her, one of his hands subtly drifting out of her sweater in a futile attempt to steal a little bit of gingerbread. 

She smacked his hand. “None of that. If you’re going to be in the way, at least make it productive. Go get my cookie cutters.” He gave her a final kiss on the top of her head and obliged. 

Later, after they’d eaten great gobs of take out Chinese (because they were both god-awful cooks), they nibbled at little frosted gingerbread men and leaned against each other on the living room floor. The couch made a sturdy backrest and the coffee table was at the perfect height to shovel cookies directly into their delighted mouths. There was no lack of gentle smiles to be had in the haven of their twinkling living room.

Darcy sighed happily, leaning her head back against Bucky’s shoulder. “This was such a good idea. You have the best ideas.” 

Bucky tilted his head enough to brush his lips against the side of her forehead. “Oh yeah?” he asked, his tone slightly distant and distracted. 

“Mhm,” Darcy purred, snuggling in closer. 

“I might have some other ideas to suggest?”

“Oh?” Darcy perked up with interest. “ _ Sexy _ ideas?” she asked with a waggle of her brows. 

Bucky huffed a short, nervous little laugh. “Maybe. Depends on how you react to this…” And suddenly Darcy found herself staring at a ring in his flesh and blood hand. 

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Been trying to ask you this for the last two Christmases, sweetheart. Couldn’t wait any longer. Will you marry me?”

The answer was a resounding, and exceedingly high pitched  _ yes! _ that was likely heard all the way on Asgard.


End file.
